


A Handy Element

by closet_monster



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Character Study, F/M, Hurt No Comfort, Irondad, Kinda, Tony Angst, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-18 12:58:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18700072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/closet_monster/pseuds/closet_monster
Summary: Turbid glass eyes stared into dust and destruction, and eventually, those things stared right back.Blood always tasted somewhat metallic, Tony thinks. It seems about right.





	A Handy Element

**Author's Note:**

> hm HI! that part of me that lives for drama and angst opened it's eyes after endgame. To be fair, I had this written for a couple days now, but a bunch of adventurous misfortunes got in the way and I only gathered time to post this now. It's small and simple, but I feel like I owed this teeny tiny ode to Tony Stark.  
> Feel free to warn me about spelling mistakes or something that didn't make sense, english isn't my first language!  
> Hope you guys like this!

Turbid glass eyes stared into dust and destruction, and eventually, those things stared right back.

Not that he could see with enough focus. Not the paralyzed, hopeless and dying Tony Stark, in a pain induced haze that couldn’t possibly be dissipated. Not him.

It was hard to form thoughts – hard to breathe, hard to see, hard to process any sort feeling, since he snapped his fingers right after claiming “ _I am Iron Man_ ”. Followed by the wicked thundering of vicious power that started coursing through his body like a malediction – like a dry leaf being punched into the ground by an unrighteous storm.

Stark men are made of iron.

And Anthony Stark himself always found a disturbed sense of joy in the fact that he was, in fact, made of iron – iron that was daily melted, manipulated, bent and distorted, and burned like hell. Like a more dynamic and pathetic version of the Stark man Howard had been through his entire life; or the other Stark men that preceded them both.

Tony Stark was the Iron Man.

A simple twist of words that can change meanings in the more brutal ways – because the Iron man didn’t use to be a Stark man, made of iron. Tony thought himself to be a Stark man, wearing an armor of iron. But now, leaning against a dusty rock and unable to process anything, a vicious light snapped right before his eyes and Tony knew, then, that he was made of iron. Not in the usual sense that he was weak, fragile and bent; the bitter words that usually surfaced, when things were associated to his father. Not like the red and gold armor that he made for himself. Not like that.

He felt like he was made out of iron, because that’s what Stark men are made of, and for the first time, that very line made sense. Tony Stark is made out of iron. Because he can be melted, bent and distorted, and regardless, he is a purposive element that stands through destruction and wins the fight.

Tony Stark is like the spider legs keeping Peter safe – like the blasters behind Peppers shoulders, like the ligaments keeping Falcon’s wings in place, like the coms keeping everyone together, like the goddamned gauntlet he made to bring everyone back and – like the little lamplight sitting in Morgan’s bedside table, keeping an eye on her.

His little girl, who he was going to stay without from now on. Who would probably not be able to understand what his death meant right now, but would probably feel it in four or five years – and when that day came, would Morgan feel betrayed? Would she believe he abandoned her? Or would little Morgoona understand and forgive him? And damn, it was hard to close his eyes and let go after Morgan came kicking it into his mind and tying him down to earth. But there was a lamplight sitting in her bedside table that they would turn on and off every night, after all.

Small or big – always present, regardless of whatever circumstance. Always placing things together and aiding the people he loves. The people he fights for.

Because as it has been said, _Stark men are made of iron_ – and this very sentence that usually made his guts turn, chest tighten and throat burn, finally made sense, in a way that made his heart leap wildly with the realization.

Or maybe that was just his heart stopping. In a painful countdown to what he knew to be the end. The cold dead end.

And what an end – he was surrounded by Rhodey, Peter, and Pepper, and knew that Morgan was far from that nightmare, safe and sound. And that was his family right there, armored by his iron. Things started to seem a lot better from that perspective. So Rhodey, his brother, looked down at him with those kind eyes and Peter – he had just gotten his kid back, had just gotten to hug and hear his frantic rambling again, but he didn’t have strength enough to try to assure the kid that it was alright. Peter, the one kid Tony gave up his entire life with Pepper and Morgan for. Because that kid was his to look after, and Tony wouldn’t be able to sleep if he didn’t give his everything to bring him back. Peter Parker, who was worth _everything_.

And he didn’t find it within himself to say that it was alright. That he felt way better than what he looked like. And then there was Pepper, finally shinning in one of the many suits that he built for her throughout their years. Finally, _finally_ , there. Pepper, who always looked out for him. Better than what he ever did for her. Pepper, who’s clever, strong, fierce, confident, selfless and so, so loving.

They all knew what was to come, and with one last assurance from them, he breathed in for the last time. What could possibly happen, anyway? He had everyone back to the right place, cared for, ready for another fight. A fight Tony wouldn’t be part of, but he knew that they could manage just fine. That they would figure everything out and would be alright; he could finally, _finally_ rest. There were no loose ends, no strings he needed to tie. Tony Stark could, for once, rest. Rest, surrounded by his family and assured that the rest of them were perfectly safe.

That he left them all armored by his iron.

And he never breathed out.

**Author's Note:**

> so that's it. Long live Iron Man, despite the actual outcome.


End file.
